The Temptation of Otto
by anacsadder
Summary: Otto's life has hit a wall. Will he succumb to temptation? Will it lead to disaster? Takes place before the generator is made. Rated for its heavy theme. (Essentially COMPLETE. More details inside. Epilogue added.)
1. Anniversary

FATR: This is a prequel/off shoot for "Triple O" by Femme Mishima. Sadly, it looks as though she has taken her story off the site, but she gave me her permission to post this so I will go ahead as planned. Um... I don't own anything in this chapter, okay? Absolutely jack diddly squat. Those who read "Triple O" will know what ultimately happens but I added a special twist. This thing is chalk full of symbolism. You can spend a little extra time figuring it out or you can read it for pure pleasure. Enjoy first chip chip of Temptation Of Otto.

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Icy wind tries to tug open his trench coat as he makes his way across the parking lot. It is careless in its actions, disregarding any harm it may cause to the owner if it succeeds in its venture. One leather gloved hand pulls up the collar then makes its way to the pocket to hunt up the keys. The keys sing out in greeting as the hand closes around them and lifts them into the cold air. They rest in the palm as the thumb sifts through them. The thumb applies pressure to a small red button and the car greets its master with a chirp.

Dr. Otto Octavius settles into the cold seat, puts his briefcase on the seat next to him, closes the door, and inserts the keys in the ignition. He pauses with his hand on the keys, his eyes clouding as he retreats into his own mind for a moment. The keys, the car, the weather, all watch, seeming to stop just for him. The hand slowly slides away from the keys, the fingers tracing over them as if reluctant to release them, and come to rest on his lap. His eyes move down and to the left as his other hand fishes in his pocket and comes up with a piece of white notebook paper. It is folded into a plain little square, such a simple yet sharp shape, all sides and angles equal. It is strange how such a small thing could weigh so much, make him think so hard. Though it isn't the square itself that rests so heavily in his hand and on his mind, it is the offer the square presents:

_Come to the Alpha Capa Sigma house at 6 pm. This offer stands only until 6 pm._

That is written in cursive, so flowery it is almost calligraphy, with a metallic green gel pen. It is decorated with little red flowers, so that it looks like it is spelled out in vines. Underneath this elaborate text is a little red heart, and under the heart is the name Terra. Terra, like the Latin word for earth. She had certainly looked earthy, like a nymph or a fairy. Hm... in the short time he had been on campus he had already heard that the ACS sorority was full of nuts, crazies if you will. Though he has been in a slump lately. Perhaps a little craziness is the perfect remedy. Yes, a crazy pill to de-slump himself.

The keys still jingle faintly, trying to get the man's attention. **This is insanity. You've had a long day. Just go home. You know what you have at home?**

The hand lifts out of the lap to caress the keys, even as the other cradles the little white square. He closes his eyes, feeling the weight in his hands...

The weight of the large white box. It was square and flat, done up with green ribbon. There was a fire crackling in the hearth, casting a comfortable gold glow around the room. It challenged the windy night without to dare try and make its way within. No gap, chink, nor crevice would permit its entry. He moved his hands up and down to get a better feel for what the object in the box might weigh. He shook it a little next to his ear and squeezed it gently.

"Don't try to guess what it is, that's cheating," Rosie laughed.

Otto gazed lovingly at his wife of fifteen years then grinned mischievously. "I think I almost have it figured out, anyway."

"No, you don't."

"You want to bet?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, genius." Rosie crossed her arms. "What is it?"

"It's a plate, made out of some kind of stoneware. Mostly likely ceramic." He squeezed the box again. "But I can't quite figure out what this-"

"That's it." Rosie tackled him, catching him off guard, and knocked him onto the couch. "Hand it over."

Otto slid to the other end of the couch, holding it just out of her reach. He was laughing. "It has some kind of relief sculpture in it."

Rosie lunged for him again and he leaned backwards over the armrest, holding the box over his head at arms length. She found herself laying on top of him, face to face. "Come on, Otto. Don't spoil the surprise." She was laughing too.

He put the box on the table, kissed her, and patted her rear. "Very well."

She eyed him suspiciously. "You promise?"

He made an X on his chest with his index finger. "Cross my heart." She sat back, still straddling him. He stayed on his back and gazed at her a little longer. There she was, his soul mate. Her smile was gorgeous, warming him to the very core of his existence. No more being alone, no more screaming and chaos, just her, him, and love. Otto put the box on his stomach and pulled on the green satin. His hands lifted the lid and tossed it absently on the floor. He was too happy, too at ease in the moment, to worry about being neat.

Rosie put the fingers tips of one hand to her lips, the other squeezing a fistful of her flowing terra cotta skirt in anticipation. She watched him lift the plate out of its box. It was colored to look like a sandy ocean floor. It had clear glass water in it, and rising out of the clear glass was a relief sculpture of an octopus. She watched hopefully as he studied it. He looked puzzled for half a second, then a slow smile slipped across his face. The smile was the harbinger of a deep chuckle.

"An octopus, that's really clever." He put the plate on the table and sat up, bracing himself on one hand. The box slid off of his stomach and landed on the floor with a dull thump. He caressed Rosie's face with his free hand. "I do believe I have something for you, too."

"Is that so?"

"But I can't get it with you on top of me."

"Is that so?" Her eyes grew mischievous, showing no sign that she intended to get up.

"Am I going to have move you myself?" Otto threatened playfully. Her smile widened and she giggled. "What, you think I can't anymore?" He laid back and grabbed her waist, growling like a father playing monster with his child. He lifted her and she squealed in genuine surprise as he sat up, placing her at the other end of the couch. He hadn't lifted her that much, but the fact that he could still do what he had done seemed to have caught her off guard. "That's it, naughty girls don't get presents." He got up and started for his coat. "I'm taking it back."

"Hey, now!" She pounced on him for the third time that evening but this time he was ready. He turned and caught her around the waist with his arms as she wrapped her own around his neck.

"Well... okay. Wait here a moment." Without removing his eyes from her until he absolutely had to, he went into his study. He stopped for a minute, leaning on the edge of the desk, grinning like an idiot at nothing in particular. It was almost too much. He felt giddy and tipsy from the joy. Fifteen years, fifteen years of memories together, fifteen years of happiness. It almost felt as though he shouldn't be allowed it. Though he didn't believe in such things, it seemed as though some karmic force must be watching him now, waiting to swing in and knock him down.

**_Don't think so darkly, those days are over now. Dad, never thought I'd amount to much. Look at me now, huh? I've built something that could lead to a huge breakthrough in the construction of prosthetic limbs, my fusion generator is halfway to completion, and I have the most wonderful woman in all the world by my side through it all. Yeah, this 'wimpy tub of lard' turned out to be ten times any kind of man you could have even aspired to be._**

The bottom drawer slid open and his hand delved into the layers of old tentacle designs, unearthing the long rectangular box like a buried treasure. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face. His feet guided him back into the living room where his bride awaited his return. "Happy anniversary, my love." The box passed from his work worn masculine hands to her lotion soft feminine ones.

"Fifteen years," Rosie reflected.

"And you've only grown more and more beautiful each day." She gave him a strange smile and began tearing away the paper. There was something in the smile he didn't like, but his excitement to see her expression when she saw her gift chased his misgivings away. Otto held his breath and kept his eyes riveted to her face. The anticipation was killing him. The lid came off and her eyes lit up. "A rose for my sweet rose." He moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, planting a tender kiss on her cheek.

Rosie lifted the pewter rose out of the box. It wasn't decked out in jewels or anything, but the intricacy of the detail was more beautiful than any superficial flashiness. "It's gorgeous," she breathed.

His arms embraced her shoulders. "It can also be used as a book mark. There's a little reading light under one of the leaves. Just the result of months and months of right brain thinking."

Rosie gaped at him. "You made this? How did you find the time? You really shouldn't have risked the Osborn grant-" Her lips were silenced by his.

He broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "I wanted to." Then he pulled her into a deeper kiss and ran his fingers through her auburn hair. Rosie always smelled faintly of cinnamon, a sweet, spicy smell. His lips traced to her neck and his hand found her breast.

"Otto..." Rosie laughed and gently took his hand in hers. "You really are turning into an octopus, all hands."

Otto laughed too. "Come on, my little flower, it's our anniversary." There was that look again. What was it?

"I have papers to grade."

Concern wrinkled his brow. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just too stressed to be in the mood right now. Maybe after I get some of them done and feel a little more relaxed..."

"I understand." He held her close for a while, enjoying her aura. "I have to do some work on the fusion generator, anyway. Mr. Osborn is not a patient man."


	2. Stalled Out

FATR: The PG-13 rating comes in here for a mild sex scene. Again, it is chalk full of symbolism, the entire story is, really. Um... Not much to say, really, so lets just get on with chip chip number two.

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The wind howls and Otto is once more made aware of the chill beginning to set into his bones. It shakes him out of his reverie. Rosie, his dear sweet Rosie. What had happened that night? He had become so absorbed in his work he had forgotten their planned rendevous. She hadn't come to disturb him, she never did. There had been so many times when he had been working late, forgotten an appointment, and she had always been there for him. She is waiting for him at home, now, and he feels like the biggest asshole in the world for even considering the offer on that deadly little white square. His fist crushes it and he savagely turns the keys with his free hand.

_**I'm sorry. I'm coming home now.**_

The car wakes up and coughs in the frigid air. It grumbles in protest at being disturbed from its hibernation and goes back to sleep. No amount of encouragement from the keys can convince it to do other wise.

_**Stalled. Great.**_

Otto heaves a sigh and flops back in the seat. He buries his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his curly brown hair. Not only had it been unpredictable, but it had happened at the worst possible moment. This is the last thing he needs, especially on top of the inventor's equivalent of writer's block he has been suffering from. Inventor's block is what he likes to call it. Rain begins to sound on the roof, soft at first but quickly gathering force. His eyes drift out the front windshield as a young couple dash past, laughing, huddling together under a single umbrella. There is an impregnable aura of joy around them, even while they flee the icy daggers that slice the air around them. Somehow, the weather never even seems to touch them. Otto watches them fade into the downpour, disappearing into the safety of a building just before they become too obscure to make out.

**Patter patter** laughs the rain on the black top. **Patter ping **sings the rain on the roof...

Of his study. The windows behind him kept the storm at bay while he poured over his notes. He frowned and scrutinized the computer screen that he had been staring at for the last four or five hours. Something had gone wrong with the simulation, but he couldn't figure it out. He had been stuck on that one problem for the past several months, trying to figure out how to initiate the reaction. He had come so close so many times, but if a successful fusion reaction did take place, it would only last a second or two. If it was to become completely self sustaining, it would have to last longer than that. He laced his fingers behind his head and cracked his aching back. The tentacles on the octopus clock on his wall informed him that it was nearly four in the morning. Since Rosie's octopus joke had been spread around his work place, his colleagues had thought that would be a funny present, though the arms had not yet been made a public appearance. He really only had six arms, technically, or maybe four legs and four arms, because the bottom two were designed differently. **_Maybe if I sleep on it..._** drifted through his mind as he rose out of the chair.

He stepped lightly so as not to disturb his wife as he made his way to the room they shared, at least on the nights he didn't stay up until sunrise. Otto couldn't help stopping to admire his sleeping beauty. Her hair spilled out across the pillow, forming a halo around her head. One arm lay carelessly across her stomach, her hand still clutching her book. A smile played on Otto's lips as he eased the book out of her hand, slid the rose bookmark between its pages, and placed it on the night table. The angelic sleeper stirred and he froze, but she only rolled over. Otto let out his breath and tiptoed into the bathroom. **_What is missing? You're a genius, you should be able to figure this out._** Tooth paste on the toothbrush, toothbrush in the mouth, spit in the sink... Otto splashed water on his face and straightened up. In the mirror he could see Rosie standing in the door.

"Hit a wall?" She asked.

"I've been stuck on the same problem for months. I ought to have cracked it by now."

Rosie draped her arms about his shoulders. "You're just tired. Even a genius like you needs some sleep."

Otto tangled his fingers in hers and allowed her to lead him to bed. He collapsed on the edge and she sat behind him, massaging his temples with her deft fingers. "If I don't get this in time for my meeting with Mr. Osborn, I won't get the grant."

"There are millions of people looking to fund your work. If Oscorp is dumb enough to pass you over, it's no one's loss but their own."

Otto grinned at her over his shoulder. "You know what always inspires me?" Before she could answer he had lunged at her. They struggled playfully together until he wound up on top of her. There was a long moment where they just stared into each others eyes, Otto with his forehead against hers. His eyes silently sought her permission, and her eyes returned it. Their lips met and their tongues entwined. Love, the sweetest taste of all. Their clothes were disappearing quickly. His soul mate was always beautiful to him. There was no one in the world more beautiful than his delicate rose. "I love you," he whispered into her neck. "So much."

Rosie's fingers ran through the silky brown curls on his head and traced his muscular back and shoulders. "I love you too," she breathed.

Otto ran his hands down her thighs, pulled her knees up on either side of his waist, and gave himself over to passion. It consumed him and he forgot his work, his deadlines, everything. All that existed or mattered was the lithe body moving beneath him and the soft gasps that reached his ears. When it was over, and he was past the afterglow, it would come flooding back afresh, but this time there would be something there he hadn't noticed before. His muse never failed him. **_How did that saying go? Behind every great man is a woman? _**One thing was for sure, he wouldn't have even dared to attempt the fusion generator if it hadn't been for Rosie.

Afterwards they lay together, spooning, basking in each others' warmth. "Are you feeling better?" She asked.

"Mhm," Otto sighed. Any time now it would all come back. He wished it wouldn't, but it was inevitable. Rosie drifted off to sleep in his protective arms, but sleep never came so easily for him. In his mind he went over and over the equations and formulas, seeking the source of his error. He couldn't find it. He'd tried light, heat, electricity, in combination with many materials, but to no avail. The answer didn't come to him now either. He sighed and closed his eyes. Another long day lay ahead of him. All well.


	3. Rung Up

FATR: It is so short but Halloween is the busiest time of the year for me. I just love it so much! I went trick-or-treating (and yes, I am almost 18) and there was this awesome haunted house thing set up. I hugged Jason and when I hugged Freddy he hugged back! Walking on air now! My four slashers are so hot! I love them! And yes, I was Shathra, and yes, I kicked ass. Gosh, I could babble endlessly about Halloween Horror Nights, too, but I don't have time. I'll babble about it in my next update, though I warn thee, it will mostly end up being one of my other stories. Not "Heros are Made" because it is PG and I want to talk about it in one where I can explain the train of sex guy. Yeah, crazy, I know, but Halloween is always crazy when you're me. I'll also babble about other things as I always do. I'm glad to see you're getting so into it, LadyKayoss. I like to fancy myself as a bit of a sadist, and I torture my favorite characters because of it. Let's see if I can get that scream out of you at some point, eh? Heehee, just playing with you. More of me being mildly sadistic. And Femme Mishima, your input, as the author of my inspiration, is much valued. Heehee, and I haven't forgotten you, Lady Russell Homes, and Agent Silver. I love you all! You all keep me going! Yay! ANY-hoo, enjoy the latest chip chip in "Temptation of Otto." And perhaps check out "Opening the Gate"? Okay, I'm done babbling. On with chip chip!

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His muse had forsaken him that time. **_Perhaps... perhaps this new girl... It wasn't completely Rosie's fault. This time her powers of inspiration just couldn't get past your block. Though, maybe what you need is some fresh inspiration. Some young, fresh inspiration... A decision like this is a gigantic one that shouldn't be rushed into without careful consideration. How much time do I have? _**

**Thirty-seven minutes **his watch informs him.

Otto opens the door and steps in the storm, slamming it behind him before the weather can get into his car. His footsteps splash on the freshly flooded concrete as he moves to the front of the vehicle. His hands lift the hood and he takes a good, long look inside. There doesn't appear to be anything wrong with it. Not that he can see. Though the storm makes visibility difficult. The hood thunksshut and he returns to his front seat to seek a flashlight. He doesn't have time for this kind of exasperation. He is a busy man, with things to do, deadlines to meet, people to see. He doesn't have time to...

Lecture a bunch of college students. Half of them probably wouldn't even be paying attention. "Curt, you know I would love to, but I've been suffering from inventor's block again and-"

"All you need is a fresh perspective. Take some time off, Oscorp will wait if they are really interested. I have students here that idolize you for your work. Besides, maybe a question and answer session with the students will inspire you in some way."

**_What could a mere student possibly have to say that I couldn't have come up with myself? _**Out loud he said, "I'll do it as a favor to an old friend. Give me a date and a time, and I will do my best to show up." There was a pause on the other end.

"Is Rosie there?"

"Yes."

"As soon as we work out when you're going to be here, I want you to put her on the phone so I can tell her about it myself."

Otto laughed. "I know I can get so absorbed in things I forget about time. If it wasn't for her I'd forget to eat and sleep."

"Then die from lack of both and forget you had died," Curt laughed. "I know you mean well, my friend, but I would really like to know for sure that both of you are on top of things."

"I understand. Now, when and where?" Thanks to the hands-free headset, Otto could grab the pencil and paper that sat by the phone without hindrance. There were times when he found it hard to function with only two hands. The transition from six-handed-scientist Otto in the lab to regular-human-being Otto at home was becoming increasingly difficult. In fact, after about a week of using the arms, he had gone out and purchased the hands free device. **_Maybe I should design a smaller, lighter version of the arms for household use._** "Okay, north end of campus at 1:30 pm on Thursday. Hold on a minute." He turned towards the livingroom. "Rosie? Curt wants to speak with you!"


	4. Lectureous

FATR: Short, but much more interesting than the last one. After this there are only two chapters left. I got the fusion reaction info from two websites which are posted in profile, seeing as how I cannot post websites here. Terra is my character. Mine! Well, you could use her with specifically requested permission if you really, _really_ wanted to, but you must ask so I know what it is you plan to do. I'm not usually this protective of my OCs but Terra is sort of a... well, a bit of an inside... cameo... thing. If you read "Opening the Gate" you may have a vague idea where this is coming from. If not? Well, just enjoy the story for what it is and stop worrying. It's like the symbolism I've been sneaking into the story. It's sort of to make the composing of the story more challenging for myself. I mean, you get the extra fun of trying to figure it out, but it really doesn't much affect the plot. Any way... on with the chip chip!

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Rosie is the glue that holds him together, almost like his mother had held him together. _How pathetic. My son, whipped by his woman. I knew your mother raised a pussy, I'm just surprised you didn't turn into some kind of faggot. _

Otto covers his ears against his father's voice, but it doesn't help because the voice is in his head. **_I'm not a pussy, you're an asshole._** _This pretty little filly makes a move on you and you don't even have the balls to go through with it. **I'm married, dad. That may not have meant much to you but- **Come on, tubby, don't try to make this about me. I thought I had a son, not some sentimental girly-_

"Just shut up!" Otto yells. "Shut up!" The voice comes no more. Otto sighs in relief and looks around under the seat for the flashlight he keeps for emergencies. When he can't find it there or in the back seat he checks the glove box. **_There it is. Too bad I left my umbrella at home. Rosie warned me to bring one. Why didn't I listen?_** His stiffening fingers close around the handle and one thumb presses the button. Aided by the portable light, Otto makes his way to the front of...

The audience amid the applause.His gaze traveled around the room, taking in the faces. Just as he had predicted, a few of the students seemed to be off in lands of their own. However, many of them looked genuinely intrigued, awed even. One of this latter group seated in the front row really caught his attention. She looked like she could possibly be Irish, with the milky skin and flaming hair. He knew her hair color because a single ringlet trickled down the side of her face to her jaw line, refusing to remain imprisoned under the green, intricately beaded and sequined scarf on her head. It was her eyes that really grabbed him, though. They were an almost radioactive green that seemed to pierce into his very soul. Though his eyes only laid on her for brief time, it was still long enough for one of her sparkling green eyelids to dip in an impish wink. The implications carried in that wink startled him and his eyes were quick to move on. The applause died out and he began. "Good afternoon, fellow scholars," he smiled. He noticed the forest nymph put her elbow on the desk and place her chin in her hand. She was leaning forward, her body language disclosing her interest. In fact, she seemed almost too interested... "I am Dr. Otto Octavius. I hope my lecture will enlighten each one of you in some way." Glancing around he smiled and added jokingly, "Well those of you who choose to listen. One cannot learn if he or she is not open to the experience." There were a couple polite chuckles from his more avid fans, but the girl in the front row just kept gazing on intently. He shifted his weight, trying to mask his unease, and began his speech. "The field of science is a vast and mysterious territory. It is so vast, in fact, that any one human cannot possibly explore the entire expanse in one life time. Therefore, we must all choose to specialize in specific areas. I will begin with nuclear fusion." The girl in the front row crossed her legs. She was wearing black capris, from what he could see, and sparkly green platform sandals. They were very strappy, with a slight heel. "Also known as a thermonuclear reaction, nuclear fusion occurs when two nuclei join to form a larger nucleus. This releases an immense amount of energy." As he spoke, the fairy leaned back, opened a spiral note book, and plucked a pen out of the wire binding. It began to move across the paper in lazy, looping motions. "If this power can be harnessed, it will create a virtually limitless energy source. It would be entirely environmentally friendly and perfectly safe. Any malfunctions would result in an immediate system shut down." The redhead switched pens and kept drawing. She glanced up to see him watching her and sent him a discrete yet lecherous grin. He cleared his throat and turned his eyes to his notes, though he didn't really need them. "The sun and stars are fueled by this process. There are many ways for reactions such as these to occur, though the optimal reaction takes place between Deuterium and Tritium. Deuterium is an abundant, naturally occurring element extracted from water. Tritium (1) is much rarer." His eyes wandered past the redhead again, inexorably drawn by curiosity. Her eyes locked on him again as her almost childlike hands crossed over the lined paper of the notebook. He really hoped no one, especially not Curt, noticed his eyes flicking over there so often. He knew the thoughts this imp was trying to put into his head were dangerous and wrong, but the harder he tried to ignore her, the harder those piercing eyes tried to lure his gaze. "The temperatures required for this reaction are well above one hundred million degrees Celsius. At this temperature, the elements pass into the fourth stage of matter, known as plasma. In this stage of matter, the electrons and atomic nuclei are split apart." Otto decided to keep his eyes on the faces in the back rows and along the back walls as he continued his lecture, but he could still feel those unnatural eyes sowing the seeds of sin deep into his psyche.

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FATR: I leave you with these two thoughts: What does "schnitzzelfrothboudon" mean?

Table vs Chair- who would win and why?

(1) Imagine my surprise and glee when I found out this wasn't entirely made up for the sake of the movie. It does not occur naturally. It is synthesized from Lithium within the reaction itself. It apparently is not as rare as the movie tells us. That's action/sci-fi for yah. Again, the links are in my profile.


	5. Unsettling Proposition

FATR: Holy shit, Femme Mishima! I barely have the update on the internet for half an hour and you read and reviewed it? Goddamn, that really freaked me out. It was an exceedingly pleasant surprise, yes, but it really did freak me out. And as far as you are concerned, Doc Ock's Girlfriend, I am glad I could light up your day, if only for a moment. We are really nearing the end, now, people. This is the second to last chapter we are looking at here. I may do a follow up one shot, or add a chapter at the end, explaining what's going through Curt's mind in this scene. I more than likely will, actually, because I had a very definite idea about what was running through his head, and I doubt it will be easy to figure out in this context. You are welcome to guess. And, yes, I am still pumping the present day scenes full of symbolism. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I did. So, without further ado, on to chip chip number five!

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The scientist finally gives up any and all attempts to ward off the weather. He leans over the engine, poking and prodding here and there, unable to locate any specific causes of his car trouble. The wind gusts again, forcing its way under his coat and through his clothing, but he is so numb he doesn't care anymore. Not even the slightest tremor appears to rack his body. Finally completely and utterly fed up with everything he slams the hood down and places both hands on its surface. He leans there for a while, shoulders hunched, rain dripping off the brim of his hat. **_Who am I? What am I? I've always been defined by my intelligence. It's all I've ever had over my childhood tormentors. If I don't finish my work I am nothing..._** Droplets of icy water make their way down his cheeks. **_Rosie_** futilely drifts through his mind as he tears his hands away from their positions on the hood. He trudges back to the door, jerks it open absent mindedly, and collapses inside for the... **_The third time tonight? I can't just keep playing this game with myself. All this finnidling around is really just a stalling tactic. I have to make a decision, and I have to do it now._** Otto leans back into the soft leather of the chair...

On the opposite side of Curt's desk. He had a nice office, and Otto said so out loud.

"Thank you," Curt laughed. "It's a little messy."

"You should see my office at home," Otto laughed. "There's a reason the only other person allowed in there is Rosie. It is beyond any form of help."

"I still would have picked up a little if I had known you were going to stop by after the talk."

"Speaking of which, how do you think it went?"

Curt raised an eyebrow. "Do you want my opinion as a teacher or my opinion as a friend?"

"Curt..." Otto warned jovially.

"Alright. I honestly thought it was a little dry," Curt admitted. "All of your fans were hooked, but..."

Otto winced. "You also thought it was bland, huh? I'm sorry I'm not much of a public speaker. I'm not used to having so many people staring at me." **_Or at least not lecherous young women who want to get into my pants._**

"You did look a little nervous," Curt agreed. "But when you accept your Nobel Prize, you'll have to be prepared for a lot of attention."

Otto shifted in the seat. "I don't know about winning any awards..."

"You've already developed quite a following. Some day you'll be all over the news. I can sense it." Curt smiled and stood up. "I'm going to get some coffee. Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you," Otto nodded. When Curt disappeared, Dr. Octavius sighed and slouched forward. Those eyes were burned into his mind. When he closed his eyes he could see them, glowing like a tiger's in the night. **_I don't want you! Get out of my head!_**

"Dr. Octavius," a bright voice sang from the door. "I was afraid you had left."

Otto's eyes flew open and he whipped around to see the girl from the front row leaning in the door frame. She wore a black fur coat and shimmery green tank top that showed her navel. Her breasts weren't particularly large but the top was so tight that... **_Oh, damn, do not go there, Otto, you are a married man. _**He gulped. "Can I... er... help you?"

"Some of the girls and I are huge fans. They were so bummed that they missed your lecture."

"What girls?"

"My sorority sisters."

"Oh." There was an uncomfortable silence. Otto feared what she may have really come here for then scolded himself for being so arrogant. This girl probably had some 21-year-old boyfriend, most likely a football player. Anyway, girls like her hadn't been interested while he was in college, Rosie hadn't belonged to any sororities, so why would they care now? "So... did you want an ottograph or something?" He laughed nervously.

"As much as I would love an 'ottograph,' that is not the reason I came here. You know why I'm here. You haven't decided what to do about it yet, but you know."

"I'm married," Otto protested, wishing this sorority slut would just leave off her advances and go back to her house to do... whatever it was those girls did. This plea masked as a protest seemed to have no effect of any kind. Just in time the sound of footsteps in the hall heralded Curt's return.

"Miss Windsor. What brings you here?" He asked, handing a coffee to Otto.

"I just came by to meet the great genius in person. I wanted to personally thank him for taking time to come here today. It was quite enjoyable. Do you really think you can come up with a renewable energy source that is completely environmentally friendly?" This last part was directed to Otto.

"I never said I myself was going to do it..."

She smiled. "A modest genius, no less. How refreshing. I know you will do great things, Dr. Octavius, it is your destiny." She reached out a hand to shake his. She wore sparkly green nail polish.

He stood up to accept the handshake and get her out of there before she said anything else really strange in front of Curt. As he brought his hand away, he felt something pass from her hand to his. He held on to it, not wanting Curt to see. Curt might tell Rosie, and he didn't want to get the young lady herself in trouble, either. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Windsor."

"Likewise," she nodded and turned to Curt. "See you later, Dr. Conners."

While she had Curt's attention, Otto pocketed the paper and resumed his seat. When the girl left he commented, "She's a little odd."

"She may be odd but she is a very bright student. In fact, it seems her sorority tends to turn out bright students."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "A sorority for the smart girls, huh? I can't remember anything like that growing up." He chuckled.

"Well..." Here Curt lowered his voice and closed the door. "They are all very bright girls but they tend to be a little... Some of them tend to be unnervingly clannish. Sometimes they..." He stopped as though reconsidering his words.

"Are they dangerous?" Otto asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Curt jerked out of his daze. "No, no, not dangerous. I mean, it's not like they're covering up anything. I just had an uncomfortable encounter with one last year."

**_Does he know?_** Otto wasn't sure why that freaked him out so badly. He definitely had no intention of seeing that girl ever again. "What happened?"

"I never thought I would say this, but they are too focused during class." Curt forced a laugh. "I thought perhaps Ms. Windsor was the reason you were so fidgety up there today."

"I didn't even notice her." Otto felt like he had 'liar' written all over his face.

"Yes. They do tend to blend in, don't they?" Curt responded quickly.

There was a silence. **_I think he knows. I think he knows. Why does that bother me so much? I have to find a way to get out of here. I can't seem too suspicious about it. I can't let him know... I mean think. I can't let him think that there is something going on. I have to..._** The clock ticked, giving him an idea. "Anyway, I guess I better get going. I have some bugs to work out of my tentacles." **_Why did you say it like that?_**

"What's wrong with them now?" Curt asked.

"The bottom left one is responding a little slowly to my commands, when it responds at all." **_Oh, you're really on a roll with this, aren't you?_**

"Oh, well, good luck to you on that. Let me know how it goes."

"Yeah. Talk to you later."

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FATR: It's getting a little weird here. The last chapter will be especially odd. You'll see what I'm talking about soon enough. Anyway, 'til next time, kiddies!


	6. Turning Point

FATR: Oh, boy, this is the last chapter. Wow, it is so rare for me to actually finish stories. You have no idea. If you don't believe me, check out nocturnalsoldier/yugioh. Hey, don't be sad, I have a prologue and an epilogue in mind. I will add them soon. Just be patient. I thank all of my reviewers: Femme Mishima (my inspiration), LadyKayoss, Moonjava, Lady Russell Holmes, Doc Ock's Girlfriend (if you're the redhead, you should love this chapter), Agent Silver, and Shadowy Seclusion (last but certainly not least)! Okay, this is a rather odd chip chip, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same.

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Thinking back, Dr. Octavius realizes that she distracted his friend on purpose. She had known that he hadn't yet made up his mind. He knows that she was right, because he wouldn't have taken her invitation if he had truly set his mind against her. He feels a hot tear mingle with the rain that still clings to his face. **_I'm so sorry, my sweet Rose. I am so, so sorry._** He inhales deeply and wipes his face on his soaking coat sleeve. Mustering all his nerves, he turns the key again. The car hums to life and the heater hits him full force. He turns the dial down, clicks his belt into place, and puts the car into reverse. He backs out of the space, wondering if he is too late or not. A minuscule part of him hopes he is, though it knows he has no intention of changing his mind back now. As he drives, Curt's words return to him. His friend had seemed very uncomfortable while discussing the ACS girls, like he knew something Octavius didn't. Then again, how dangerous can a couple of girls be? Isn't it human nature to pick a pack and stick with it?

The house looks foreboding in the storm but he is through wavering, through with indecision. He parks the car in an inconspicuous place and makes his way up the slippery front walk. Otto steps up onto the porch and takes a deep breath. Just as he reaches for the door it opens and Terra Windsor, the temptress from the audience, sticks her face through the crack.

"You are right on time. Come in, take off that wet coat." She opens the door wider and gestures him inside.

He notices she is wearing a short, sheer green nighty, with some kind of leafy design snaking across it. It isn't entirely revealing but it leaves oh so little to the imagination. Then Otto takes the step that will change his life forever. He had thought that there would be some kind of notable sensation, a rush of guilt, a sense of relief, but there isn't even any kind of adrenaline rush. The only rush he experiences is the rush of blood from other parts of his body to that special place in his pelvic region at the sight of Terra in the tiny negligee. Once inside he turns his eyes to examine the interior. **_It certainly doesn't look the way I used to imagine sorority houses must look._** It is very dim for one thing, lit by wall-mounted candelabras. The floor is a gleaming obsidian stone, polished to perfection. There is a full-length mirror against an off-white wall lined with coats. The ceiling is dark blue, painted like a starry night sky. Before he can even move, Terra, he realizes now how short she is without the platform high heels, claps her hands and two other members appear. One wears a violet tank top and panty set, her blond hair flowing to her shoulder blades. The other looks Hispanic and is robed in red silk. If she is wearing anything under it at all, Otto can't tell. These two newcomers take his coat and hat to hang them up. He feels something burning on his finger as he removes his gloves.

He raises his hand for inspection and his wedding ring glares at him. **How can you do this? How can you-**

Terra gently plucks it off his finger and slips it in his jacket pocket. "How about we leave this here." A statement, not a question.

"Of course," the scientist answers as she takes his hand and leads him down the hall. The living room is even more gothic than the front hall, only done in lighter shades of blue and black. There are girls in pajamas, regular cotton pajamas, sitting in a circle. They all turn to look as he enters, in almost perfect unison. **_It reminds me more of a cult than a sorority._** For the last time, Curt's half warning drifts to mind. Otto brushes it aside with the cockiness of a rooster in a hen house.

One of the girls in the circles grins. "Adferrebas cibum!"

"Est dum nullus tuam," Terra growls. Then she smiles sweetly at the man by her side. "Would you like a drink or perhaps..." She presses against him suggestively, "Something to eat?"

"I don't know," he whispers just as suggestively. "Would _you_ like something to eat or drink?"

Terra bites her lip and eyes him hungrily. "Right to business sort? I like that. It's so..." she grabs him intimately to finish her sentence. "Come this way, then."

She leads him to the back of the house and he realizes the other girls are still following. **_Are they doing what I think... I didn't plan for this. All well, I'm already in the water; I might as well go swimming. _**Terra opens door at the end of a hallway and the other girls usher him inside, though he's entering entirely by will at this point. The door clicks shut and he thinks he hears her lock it but doesn't know for sure. He doesn't really care anyway. The two girls each place a hand on his shoulders and press him into the cerulean-sheeted bed. He sees Terra leaning against the door eyeing him almost the way a predator eyes its prey. A brief moment of discomfort passes through his body. He feels a little like Jonathan Harker must have felt when surrounded by Dracula's maidens. "What are your names?"

"That fiery little devil is Carmen," Terra answers as she saunters towards him. "And the violet on your left is Urania."

Terra straddles his lap and unbuttons his shirt. Carmen takes one side, Urania takes the other, and they both pull it off. He is flooded with a painful desire as Terra leans in close with her pink lips. She smells like jasmine flowers and as she kisses him he notes that her breath tastes like sweet nectar. He puts his hands on her hips and kisses back gladly. The other two close in on him and he kisses first Carmen than Urania, trailing his fingers over their soft cheeks. The former smells like apples, and the latter tastes of vanilla. There is something supernatural in the way they work a spell of desire upon him, but that only serves to make it ever more exciting. He takes each of them, one after the other. They bring him higher, higher, to altitudes of pleasure he never knew could exist. It is addicting, and dangerous, and he fears the fall, but at the same time cannot get enough of the fear. Then later, it is all over. It seems to Otto as though it didn't last nearly long enough, but at the same time he doubts he could take much more. He is exhausted, or exhilarated, he can't tell. From somewhere below his current plane of existence he hears one of the girls' voices. It is not Terra, but one of the other two, the ones who had thus far never uttered more than a moan or a gasp.

"Otto," Carmen whispers, lips inches from his ear. Her hand rests on his slowly rising and falling chest. "You must listen to us now."

Otto opens his eyes and forces himself to focus on the speaker. It is Carmen. **_Almost like the word for song. Her voice sounds like music... wait... music? _**

"Otto." Urania commands his attention by turning his face towards her. "Are you listening?"

"Yes..." he groans.

Urania leans close to his face and makes gentle eye contact. "Everywhere you lecture, sorority girls will lay themselves out at your feet. Take as many as you desire."

"But try to temper yourself," Carmen continues. " The more you take, the greater your karmic bill will be when it comes time to pay."

**_Her voice is so harmonic... Harmonics! That's it!_** He sits up slowly, eyes alight.

Terra gives him a crooked smile. "Is everything alright, Dr. Octopus?"

"I... I just figured it out," he mutters. "Harmonic frequencies, sympathetic-" He stops and gives Terra an odd look. "Why did you call me that?"

"Your name _is _Dr. Octavius, right?" Terra seems puzzled.

"Right, I thought you said... Never mind. What time is it?"****

"Time for you to go I imagine," Terra answers a little sadly. "Enjoy yourself." She caresses his face and kisses him one last time. "But be careful," she adds in a voice just above a breath.

FIN


	7. Epilogue: Suns and Roses

FATR: **New note: Gr, they won't allow songfics all of a sudden? Not even disclaimed ones? Fine. I've removed the song lyrics. Look them up, though, because they fit perfectly with the story, and I wrote the story in sections to match the lyrics. Inconvenient... **Ok, here's the epilogue, though it seems many of my original readers are no longer with me (yeah, you all know who you are). I know I haven't updated for a while (rpgs will eat your soul) but come on, have a little faith, huh? This fic right here is a songfic for November Rain by Guns and Roses. See the pun on the title? It is really a beautiful song. If you get a chance, take a look at it. This is a comparatively long chapter. That's probably mostly because of the song, though. Anyway, on with the chip chip, 'cause by now you know I own nothing.

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**Rosie makes her way down to Otto's office and gently cracks the door. There he lies, asleep amongst the diagrams and formulas scattered across his desk. She frowns slightly and bites her lip. Is it true? The suspicion had been gnawing at her for years, now, but some how she can't believe it. Her mouth opens, shuts, opens again, then shuts once more. How is she to broach the subject? Is now really the time? No. No, it isn't fair to wake him up like this and spring it on him, especially with the stress. Besides, she doesn't really know... She closes the door softly and leans against the wall beside it, deciding to let him sleep just a bit longer. Once he is awake and finished with breakfast she will talk to him.

She wanders back into the kitchen. Rosie pulls down a mug and fills it with water at the sink._ Am I really inadequate somehow?_ The water is shut off and the mug is placed in the microwave. Beeps intrude upon the heavy silence as her finger moves over the buttons. As the machine hums to life she returns to the cabinets for a tea bag. _I wish..._

The phone rings.

Rosie pounces on it quickly. "Hello?"

"Rosie? I got your message. What's wrong?"

"Oh, Curt, I..." Rosie puts her hand to her forehead and leans against the counter. "I found... I mean, I'm only a little surprised, but... It hurts..."

"What did you find?"

"In Otto's pocket, while I was doing the laundry. He forgets to empty his pockets, so I always make sure I'm not washing anything important, you know?" She pushes off the counter with one hand and walks to the other end of the room to answer the beeping microwave. "I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it has the name of a sorority and an address..."

There is silence on the other end.

"Curt?"

"I'm here."

"And?"

"I honestly don't know what to tell you."

"Look, if you know something..." There is anger rising in her voice.

"Nothing is certain, you know that."

"Tell me." Her voice is calm and controlled, barely above a whisper.

"Okay... well, I really don't know for certain, but at that first lecture, there was this girl in the audience. After the lecture I found them together in my office. Not 'together,' just talking. Otto really didn't look like he had any intention of..."

"'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions...'"

"Sorry?"

"My mother used to say that. She was a... rather cynical woman." Rosie hears footsteps. "He's awake. I... I haven't decided what to do..."

"The most important part of a relationship is communication."

"Yeah... Look, I'm going to go. I'll let you know how it turns out."

"I sincerely hope it turns out well. Goodbye."

"Bye." Rosie hangs up and takes a sip of her tea.

"Who was that?" Otto asks as he takes down a mug.

"It was Curt. He just wanted to wish you luck. Not that you'll need it." She smiles. It feels so fake, and yet Otto doesn't seem to notice. "My big handsome genius." Rosie wraps her arms around his neck and stands on tiptoe to give him a peck on the lips. He holds her and returns the kiss. As she leans back to search his eyes, she sees no betrayal; none that is obvious, at any rate. She does see love, some kind of love. Of course he loves her, though. Why not? And she loves him. But...

"Is something troubling you?"

Rosie actually thinks about asking. It isn't springing it on him if he asks first, is it? But when she looks into his eyes and sees... "No," she lies. "I'm fine." She kisses him again before turning away. "So, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Oh, Rosie, you don't have to-"

"Don't be silly. It is your big day, isn't it?" She watches him expectantly. Something seems to flit across his face and he raises one of his hands slightly. Then it falls back by his side. His eyes flick down and to the right as he thinks.

"Pancakes," he answers.

"Then pancakes it is, my love."

What has gone wrong? Five years ago they had been so happy, so in love. Does his infidelity go back that far? Why? Oh, what on earth had possessed him to take that step? Rosie doesn't want to think that there is such a beast living inside the man she loves so dearly.

When breakfast is over, she goes to dress. As she is changing, she spies herself in the mirror. She bites her lip and takes in the sight. Things change so much so quickly. It seems like just yesterday her and Otto were entwined in a passionate embrace, fueled by the heat and desire of the youthful. Now she is in the fall of her life.

In the past five years, her and her lover have only embraced... eight times, and it had always been rather shallow in hindsight. Otto had acted the part so perfectly for the first three years. The approach of year four is when her suspicions had begun to prick up. Twice a year had dropped to once a year, for he had been 'too tired.' She hadn't asked back then, perhaps trusting him more than she should have, or perhaps not wanting to acknowledge the problem. He had told her the project had placed him under too much stress. It is ironic that he has started using the same excuse she had used the night of their fifteenth anniversary. Yes, things change. The summer of youth fades to the fall of age. She had known it would happen, but she hadn't expected it to happen so soon. She hadn't expected Otto to deal with it like... _I can't be angry now. I can't stir things up so close to the demonstration. _

Otto enters the room. Rosie keeps her back to him, turning quickly from the mirror to finish changing. For the first time since... her first time, she is embarrassed to be naked in front of him. She hides behind her hair, pulling her clothes on quickly. Then she turns to him, determined to act like everything is normal. She will play the part of the perfect, supportive wife, no matter what. After the demonstration is over, and they are alone, she can drop the facade. Then and only then will she inform him of her suspicions. This has to go well for the man she loves. She is disappointed, but she can't bring herself to hurt him or his chances for success. There is no point in picking a fight right before the most important event of his life.

She stands in front of him and straightens his light gray shirt. Her hands run over his shoulders and down his arms to smooth the sleeves. They make eye contact. "You look so handsome," she smiles. It's not a lie in any way, shape, or form. Otto really is quite handsome and charismatic, especially in when he's in his element. Well, such is her perception, and apparently the perception of young college... _No, I can't think of that now. I mustn't think of that now. Besides, I went through a similar funk. Maybe he'll grow out of it._ The sorority sluts may come and go, but this relationship is so much different, so much stronger.

"And you, my sweet Rose, look ravishing." Otto caresses her cheek and kisses her forehead.

She glows back. _Don't lie, Otto. It only makes it worse._

As they make their way down to the lab, she wishes she can be as at ease as he appears. Her thoughts are in turmoil. She feels hot then cold at intervals. How can he be so calm? How can the lying... He never has time to talk to her anymore. Perhaps if the lines of communication had been more open, if he hadn't been spending so much time in the damn lab, things would have turned out differently. If she had known how he felt she would have made herself more available before his passion sent him elsewhere. _Then again, it can be deeper than that. _If it isn't deeper than that, she could have forgiven him his physical infidelities. Just as long as he still loves her. There's more to love than sex. It's the more part that one must finally return to, in the end. If she's his more, she might be able to forgive him.

Rosie can't help but feel like she had pushed him away somehow. No, she doesn't feel as young or as passionate as she used to, but if she had known he was would go to such extreme measures... Seriously, how can she compete with sorority girls? She remembers them from her days in college. They had been the goddesses of the campus, rich, elegant beauties in strappy shoes and halter tops. There had been little she, Rosie the plain, Rosie the drab, could have done to compete even then. She had thought she had beaten them by marrying the brilliant, successful Dr. Otto Octavius, but they had ultimately dragged him away, too. It is bitter irony, isn't it? They wouldn't have given him the time of day back then. Doesn't he remember that? Maybe he does, maybe that's why he had gone astray. Maybe he feels he needs to revel in his new found fame. Maybe he wants to parade his intellect and seniority around in front of the naive and inferior youths. That arrogant son-of-a...

She takes her place in the previously conceived location. He takes both of her hands in his and smiles lovingly. It's all she can do to keep from screaming, 'How can you smile at me like that? I know! I know what you did! How can you...'

"Kiss for luck?"

_That's it, keep playing the part. Perfect. You're just perfect at everything, aren't you? _But when faced with that love filled expression she can't make herself stay angry. Maybe it's only half acting, after all... They kiss. She wants it to feel fake so she can have an excuse to bring up all of her accusations now, but it just doesn't. It ticks her off and relieves her at the same time. The kiss lasts for a while, but is broken when one of the lab assistants whistles. Rosie blushes as they part. "Good luck."

He moves away from her, their hands remaining locked together until the last possible moment. She watches him lift the edge of a pristine, white tarp and double check the apparatus inside, mainly the little blue square at the top. It's the inhibitor chip. She knows that, and she knows its function. Also, she knows that, despite his outward cockiness, he does fear the possibility of being taken over by them and checks the chip first and foremost before donning the actuators. There had always been a sinister aura around the machine. It just feels evil to her. Otto laughs and assures her that it is incapable of any emotion, much less capable of being good or evil. The only evil it is capable of depends on the wearer. And doesn't she trust him? Though at times she can see his unease about them. More irony, isn't it? He claims all commands, good or bad, they get come solely from the wearer. But isn't there something dark in him, then, if he is consciously able of doing the things he has done? She knows he harbors a treasure trove of repressed negative energy.

Maybe she should leave him. Not a divorce, not yet. Perhaps she just needs to step back for a couple weeks or months, go stay with her mother, and let him work out all of his issues. Will that help? Or will it make things worse?

The people are filing into the room now, exhibiting the entire rainbow of responses to excitement. There are those who are silent, solemn, serious, faces drawn in tight lines. There are the nervous jabberers, too, and everything in between. One lady is twisting her ring on her finger.

Rosie's eyes fall to her own wedding ring, the most lasting symbol of the most sacred vow she had ever made. Somehow her beloved Otto doesn't see it quite the same way as she does. She finds herself wondering if he had ever left his ring on during any of his lascivious exploits. She also finds herself very seriously doubting it. Their bond can't mean so little to him that he would blatantly disregard their vows all together.

She listens to him tell his lame joke about the rubber band, chuckling despite herself. Aw, Otto, such a bright mind, and though his skills as a public speaker seem improved, his social skills still need tweaking.

Her mother often warned her of men's fleeting desires. They don't think with their brains, she had said. Don't let yourself be deceived because this one is an intellectual, Rose. There are no variations.

Her Otto? Her quiet, shy, sensitive Otto? A lecher? Rosie had laughed this off with the naivete of all young girls. She is wiser now. Why must wisdom only come with age? Yet she still honestly believes that he loves her with his heart, if not his body. And flesh is fleeting, isn't it? Though it hurts to think that she, his ever faithful wife, cannot give him everything he needs to keep him happy.

And what has he ever given her for all her faith and loyalty? What of the child she had asked him for, had dreamed of since her games with her dolls? Is a child really so much to ask for? Yes. It is when your husband is selfish and arrogant like Otto. It is when your husband cares more about his work and his machines, and his experiments. Experiments fail, love doesn't, or so she had thought. She could get pregnant just to spite him. She could go off the pill without his knowledge, like the women in soap operas did sometimes. Though it's too late for that now. In all actuality, she knows, she's kidding herself. Besides, she can never bring a child into a family that had split before it had ever begun. A baby is not and should never be an implement of spite.

Her heart leaps into her throat as the harness clamps around his waist. The image can't help but call to mind a science fiction movie she had seen once. It had been called Aliens, hadn't it? The way the harness clamps around his waist reminds her of the way the parasites had clamped onto the hosts' faces with their many legs. The spine unfurls like the tail of the metallic creature. Its movements always seem so lifelike. When the needles penetrate his flesh she winces, her stomach knotting up. He seems to be okay with it. However, she still hates watching him do that to himself. There's something disturbingly masochistic about it. The questions about the arms AI only serve to deepen her concern for his safety.

Years have flown by, yet she still worries about him. He violated her trust, yet the prospect of splitting up still shatters her very soul. She needs time alone to think on what course of action to take. Before she thinks on that, though, she must determine if her suspicions have any roots in reality. Rosie can't think, not with all this going on around her. The urge to slip off, some place nice and quiet, until the demonstration is completed prods the corner of her mind. No. Otto needs her here, to support him, right? Or maybe he should call in one of his perfect little sorority whores...

"Give me the blue light, Rosie."

Her thoughts are scattered by his command, another pun. This is wittier and more natural than his opening joke, however. She follows his instruction obediently, following him to the back of the room as his invention is dramatically unveiled. He is eating the attention up, though he is clearly nervous. He fiddles with some controls. The anxious look he casts her is enough to keep her there. He does need her. On some level, he does need her and love her. She offers him a reassuring smile.

Despite her supportive outward appearance, her insides are in tangles. It is a combination of anticipation and worry. Her fears aren't only for Otto and his success, but the uncertainty of their future, if they even have one. Most of that seems to hang on this moment. She isn't sure why, but this moment feels like the most important moment in history right now. It's silly, but true. The tritium is placed in the containment field where it fixes itself, suspended in the exact center. Her heart hangs there with it.

"Ladies and gentlemen... fasten your seat belts."

She detects the tense sigh in his voice. Rosie herself is rigid as a statue. The beams of light shoot out of the tip and base of each tower. The marble sized orb absorbs the golden light and a warm glow forms around it. She finds her heart heating and lifting in sync with the reactor. The sorority girls, Otto, even herself, she can blame them all. She can even blame Curt for pushing him into the lecture business in the first place, or for withholding that information for five years. Though it's not like Curt knew. He, like Rosie, had seen no reason not to trust Otto. It doesn't matter who is to blame, and she knows now that she can't ever hate her husband. Perhaps she is more foolish than she thought, but she is suddenly possessed by a feeling that they can work it out.

The moment is pregnant with possibility. The energy of it vibrates the air around her. The very atmosphere itself seems to crackle. It's almost as if the air has grown denser. For a moment she feels that she can't move an inch even if she tries. She wonders if anyone else can feel it? Feel the universe getting ready to change? Or maybe she's just too worked up over the affairs. Either way, she doesn't even dare to breath the thick, pulsing air. The heaviness builds until...

"Doctor, we have a successful fusion reaction."

_Oh, thank God! Oh, Otto, everything will be fine now. You'll see!_ She hears the assistant speak, but doesn't comprehend his words. Her eyes are on Otto. Foolishly forgiving eyes? Maybe, but who cares? Love is blind, anyway.

"The power of the sun in the palm of my hand..."

_SNAP!_

Rosie feels it and hears it. The energy that had seemed to be holding her entire universe together shatters, collapsing into a swirling tornado of chaos. Her wide-eyed gaze travels the room and lands on the heavy metal light fixtures being drawn inexorably towards the miniature sun. The chaotic mood grips the observes as their necklaces and watches are sucked into the flaming mass. Rosie almost can't believe what she is seeing. It has to be a bad dream. It can't really be happening. But it is. The building is being yanked down around her ears. Yet Otto still stands at the controls, trying desperately to control the uncontrollable. That's what he's been doing all is life, isn't it? Trying to master what can't be mastered. Oh, Otto. Poor Otto.

"We have a containment breach!"

Rosie hears this over the hellish symphony of screams and crackling flames. An arc of fire bursts out of the force field. "Otto, come away!" Rosie screams, rushing towards him. She doesn't know exactly what she's going to do, but she knows she can't let him die. No, she can't let him slip through her fingers, especially without letting him know that everything is and will be okay. The flaming arch bites into the stone archway , sending fragments raining down almost on top of her. She screams and takes a step back. This will not deter her from getting to Otto, though. Nothing can. Nothing will.

A new sound joins the mayhem. There is an earth shattering groaning whine followed by a crack. Rosie turns horrified to the front windows just as the glass bursts out of the frames and flies towards her, driven by the wild energy.

(You can't save him. You won't save him. He must pay up now.)

Rosie screams, just barely having time to wonder if the voice is her imagination or not. Her screaming reflection flashes as the glass flips through the air. She fears those razor edges more than anything else in the universe right then. As if driven by an invisible hand, the glittering projectile takes aim for her throat. It rips through her flesh like scissors through tissue paper. She is terrified that it will hurt, but there's no time for her nerves to react. Her windpipe is sliced in two in a matter of milliseconds. She doesn't feel that either. All she notices is that her breath suddenly escapes her, and when she goes to draw more, she can't. She just can't. Plain and simple.

"Rosie!" Otto calls out, but he is too late. She collapses on the floor, a glass dagger protruding from her throat. Something inside him breaks, too, and that's the last thing the good, kind Otto knows.

FATR: **New Note: There, I complied, if not grudgingly. Who complained about the songfics, anyway? All well, what's done is done. **Maybe after you give me some feed back on this you can go give me feed back on the latest installment of "Cat and Half," hm? Mebbe? Even flames are welcomed with open arms on chip chip 9 of "Cat" because I know I've taken the whole thing in a rather odd direction. If you have a flame itch you need to scratch, go take a look.


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